The war had ended. Finally. A war kind of caused by the "war to end all wars", but also caused by their own stupidity. They have been so blind. They followed that man and now? Now they had nothing, but many new scars on their maltreated bodies. Covered with bruises and open wounds they had to carry on. There was peace, but this peace only existed on paper. There was still so much hate in this world. They had become so numb.

No feelings.

No friendship.

Why should they feel?

War would destroy everything anyway.

So why should they shed their tears?

Why should they hurt themselves with feelings?

Prussia did not know why he should. But he wondered if still was able to feel. War had not been a part of his life, it was pretty much everything he had, beside his little brother. He was violent and proud, but still, he cared. He cared for his people, for his precious family. But now that everything was lost, what should he care for? Their country was lost, so many of their people, of their beloved children were dead. Sure, Gilbert knew they were not the only countries or people that suffered hard from this war. A war, which was much crueler than everything Prussia had seen before.

And Prussia knew how "war" looked like, it was an ugly woman. Crueler than any human could be, she brought doom and darkness over mankind. She was a clever woman, too. She crept into the mind of people and made them hungry. Hungry for blood. But more than she was cruel and more than she was clever, she was a whore. She gave herself to the mighty men, to the insane men, to the naïve men. Gilbert hated war for that. She was so cheap, everyone could start a war and with the right, clever people at one's side, that war would rage over countries, continents or even a whole planet. Without any kind of mercy she would destroy everything. Kill man, woman, child, animal. It did not matter as long as "war" got what she wanted. She was hungry, cheap whore; Gilbert knew that. But she was also the woman, who "made" heroes and glory. Every time, expect this time. This war was something different; there was no real honor and no real glory. Just earth, that was stained with the blood of innocent people. Men, who just wanted to go home, embrace their wives and children and leave these terrible memories behind. It did not matter if they were American, British, French, Russian, German, Slavic, Scandinavian, Dutch or Belgian, the only thing that mattered was, that they could not stand against the mighty men and so they became pawns in a big, bloody game of chess.

Gilbert tried to forget the horrors that he had seen, hurt himself just to feel the pain and make the memories go away. But nothing worked. He tried to focus, focus on the pain rushing through his veins, making his view blurry and pale, removing the little bit color that his skin had and making him as pale as the snow. Snow. How much Gilbert hated it. Laying there, not able to move, feeling the cold creeping into his bones. And there he was again. His memories just did not want to fade. They were etched in Gilbert's mind. Every time he thought, there was an urge to vomit. Prussia did not want to remember, but his mind was not on his side. Not this time.

And when Gilbert thought, when he indulged in his numb, yet so painful thoughts, there were questions. He could not do much other, besides thinking in his dark and a little cold cell, so he could not stop himself from doing it. Every day. Every hour. Every minute. His thoughts were always with him, in lonely nights and empty days. Even though they were always there, they did not give him the solace he needed so bad, just hurting questions and images flashing through his mind. Images that he wanted to lock away, somewhere deep inside him, and never see again. And the question did not leave him alone, they plagued him.

What had he become?

Why were he and his brother so damned?

Why did they never find peace?

And now he was alone. Asking himself all these torturing things, because there was nothing he could do instead. He wondered what his brother was doing right now. The only one Gilbert could talk to was Gilbird, his little loyal friend. He was still lonely, but that bird gave him at least a bit solace. "Hmh, my little friend. Tell me, what have I become? What made the world out of me? How could I, we, be so blind? Tell me. I'd like to know." He looked into Gilbird's small black eyes. He looked so knowing, so much more adult than Gilbert himself, but at the same time, he looked so peaceful. "I don't want to be like this anymore, I don't want to start such cruel wars. I don't want to do such a thing again. Never. I know it's not only my fault, but still, please, make that pain go away." He felt a little weird talking to a bird, but after all Gilbird was the only friend he had. Not that Gilbert had expected an answer, but he felt like he should talk more to get one. "I don't want to carry a burden that heavy anymore, maybe I can't. I feel too weak to live with what we did. But I'm still the awesome Kingdom of Prussia, I can't give up now, hu?" Surprisingly the bird really shook its head. "I knew it, but still, I feel too weak, I'm not the Kingdom of Prussia anymore. I wonder how long I will exist…I shouldn't think such things, right? But I can't do anything against it. I guess, Gilbird, this is the end of my journey. I had a long life, right? And it was fulfilled. I raised a child as my brother and son, he will carry on, he's still strong. I know it. I earned glory, I was powerful, I became awesome. I became more awesome than anyone before me and here we are. In a dark cell. That's the end of my journey. It was long enough, I guess. So, please, be happy and fly away, search a nice place to live for you and get a girlfriend or however birds call that. I – I just know that I won't get out alive. You know it, too. You're wise my friend. Now leave." Prussia opened the incredible small window and shooed Gilbird to make him fly away. This brave bird deserved to be free and happy.

Now really alone, Gilbert started to think again. What had he become? Through all these years of war and if there was no war, there still was this hate, making it hard to breath the air, when the people, who hated one, were in the same room. He had become old, not on the outside, but in his heart. I did not want to fight anymore, he was simply tired of war, even if he had earned most of his glory during or because of a war. This night he prayed, it was the night of the 24th February. He prayed to God, because he wanted his Kings to forgive him. He wanted the men and women that make him as awesome as he was to forgive him, for all the time that they had spent to make him what he had been. A glorious nation, feared by his enemies, loved by his family (not that he really had family, beside his beloved brother). And Gilbert had been proud of himself, not only for being such a powerful nation in Europe. The continent, that never stopped to struggle. He was proud of himself for raising a lost child. He had been proud, when he saw Ludwig grow up, he had laughed, when they noticed that Ludwig was taller than he was. And he had cried, when his little brother was laying there, pale and covered with wounds, after the Great War.

He remembered those silent painful nights like it was only week ago. He was sitting on a chair, the room was cold. They had no money to heat their house. Gilbert was holding Ludwig's hand, afraid to lose the little boy, that he loved so much. A little boy, who was already taller and stronger than him, but it was his little boy, and Ludwig would always be his little boy. Ludwig was laying there, so pale, so innocent, so lost, the blanket covered the ugly injuries.

"Farewell, little one. I will miss you wherever I may go." Gilbert said with hoarse voice, he cried. Prussia never had thought about crying, he was too strong to cry, but obviously, he was not. "Don't dare you to shed a single tear for me, Lutz." Gilbert wanted Ludwig to be stronger than him, because Ludwig could change, his little brother would fall into line, and he even smiled a little bit. Just a little bit, but more than in the last six years, and he was glad, that he still was able to smile.

He knew, his end was near, a nation felt such things. And Gilbert was just fine with dying, he had become so numb in the last years, it was time for him to leave this world behind.

The end of his journey was here. Right here.

Prussia did not sleep this night, he waited. He waited for his heart starting to ache horrible and breathing getting harder and harder. He waited for his blood to move slower and slower, his body getting heavy. He waited for the time to let go of this world. And Gilbert took the only things he had in here. A piece of paper and a pen. He started to write, there was so much he wanted to say, but he could not, because he was going to die soon. He wanted to say "Good bye" and "Thank you".

Dear Ludwig, my little brother.

I want to say you, that I'm damn proud of you. Not for what we did in the last years for sure, for what you did to me. You made me feel alive again, my little boy. Wait, forget that, I sound like an old man. You made me…I don't know exactly. You know I can't write letters, don't judge this one too hard. I just want to say a few things, before I will leave this world. First of all, say "Thank you, I'm sorry and farewell" to that mountain monkey, I mean, Roderich. And give Francois a bigger "I'm sorry". He is, or maybe was, my friend, you know.

But now for you, you really made me proud to be your big brother in all the years I lived with you. And I want to say you, that you're strong and you have to carry on for us both. Live and breathe for me, just, promise me that. Don't give up, I don't want to see you wherever I am, when I'm dead. Got that? Stay alive, you deserve something better than just war. But…just don't talk about such sad shit, yes? I'm happy to know you, you're my little brother. And it was nice to feel how it is, when someone needs you. And there is one last thing, that I want to say to you:

We both should be sorry, but don't forget, that there is more in our history than these 12 years, don't become a slave to your own history, brother.

In love, Gilbert

Gilbert read the letter again, it seemed fine to him. He did not have much time to change it anyway.

Now he felt it. Surprisingly how alive he felt, when he was dying. Gilbert did not feel bad for going now. And still, even in his death, he thought. Maybe he thought so much, because he never had had the time to think much. He would die with his dream in his mind. He had dreamed of a peaceful future for him and the young new country he had found. He had dreamed of freedom and luck. But he should have known, this world never gives you what you wish. And here he was, dying, because of his own fault. He and his brother could, should, have been more intelligent and aware. They forgot who they were, but now Gilbert was sure, his brother remembered, and he did, too. He did not want to die as a nameless monster, he was the Kingdom of Prussia and he had at least some reasons to be proud, and he was. And for one last time he prayed, prayed that such a thing would never happen again.

Gilbert knew, if some things would have happened and some others not, he would not be here now. He could have kept him and his brother safe. He could have found a way that was not such a dark one. But after rain comes sunshine, right? Something made him feel like the world really learned something this time. So that something like that could never happen again, and he was happy that he could pass away with that knowledge. Not with this painful emptiness of not knowing what will happen next. He also knew, that things would change in this world, war would not stay an approved political method. The mind of the people would change and with it the world.

So Gilbert could die in peace.

I deleted the lyrics, because I got the advice that using lyrics isn't allowed. Just google the song or whatever :3